The Ghost of Hope
by Ellie12
Summary: As Rhett watches over Bonnie's body, Scarlett decides it's time to be honest.
1. Default Chapter

Title: The Ghost of Hope Author: Ellie (windblownellie@yahoo.com) Rating: PG Summary: As Rhett sits watch over Bonnie's body, Scarlett decides it's time to be honest.  
  
Just the effort of walking from her bed to his door had tired her; Scarlett was unsure if this was because she was still recovering from her fall and miscarriage, or because of the overpowering grief at the loss of her daughter.  
  
For just a moment that terrible afternoon, she had felt a flicker of hope in the future, as Rhett had spoken with her on the patio about going on a second honeymoon, of starting over. Less than a minute later all of that had been shattered. Even whatever residual strength she'd found in having Rhett near her was gone, as he had seemed to descend into a madness near to what her father had experienced following her mother's death. She couldn't bear to see Rhett like that; her own pains had been pushed aside once again to face Rhett.  
  
Heaving a sigh, she raised her hand and rapped gently on the dark wood of Rhett's door. "Rhett? Rhett, it's Scarlett." She waited to be met only with silence. Her brain was in no place to be playing mind games with Rhett, so she opted to be frank. "Rhett, I would like to come in and see our daughter. If you don't answer, I'm coming inside."  
  
Before she could count to ten, the door creaked open to reveal a shaded room, illuminated by two hurricane lamps in the far corners. She let out a gasp, not at her daughter's body, but at the haggard appearance of Rhett. Upon seeing Rhett's face, her gaze locked, not even traveling to take in Bonnie's body on the bed. He stepped back to let her enter the room, but she turned to keep her eyes on him. As far as she could tell, he'd not even changed his clothes since the accident yesterday afternoon.  
  
Scarlett was exhausted, ill, and emotionally devastated, but she could tell then that she would have to bite back whatever comments she had wanted to make to him. Now, he needed her to be there for him as he had been there for her in the past. Impulsively, she stepped back towards him, wrapping her arms around him.  
  
Rhett tensed as Scarlett's arms encircled him; she had never been one to show sympathy or affection, particularly towards him. "Scarlett?" His voice crackled from tears and disuse, but his confusion was evident.  
  
"I.." She was unsure what to say to him, what would make it right. As she tried to think, her emotions overrode her brain, and tears began to flow down her cheeks. She allowed herself to cry, wrapped around Rhett, as words came, unbidden. "I've lost everyone but you."  
  
They stood for a moment, Rhett's hands cautiously roaming Scarlett's back, before he responded. "What do you mean?" Had she been listening closely, the trepidation he felt would have been clear.  
  
"Everyone I've ever cared about, I've lost. Except you. But now I'm so afraid you'll leave too. You once told me you didn't believe I'd ever been afraid of anything. Well, I'm afraid of that."  
  
He tried to interrupt her, but she placed her fingers on his lips to silence him. Now that the words were coming, she was afraid that if she didn't tell him now, she never would. "When you left with Bonnie, I was so afraid then that you weren't coming back, especially after I realized about.about the baby. I was so happy when you did return, but I was also afraid of letting you know how I really felt. So I was horrible to you, and then.I fell. I needed you then more than ever, more even than when you helped me leave Atlanta all those years ago, but I was also still scared. I think I had been scared so much by what has happened between us, I didn't think I could ask for you, or that you would come to me if I did."  
  
The pause was full of gravity as Scarlett tried to find words to fit her feelings. "And now.god's nightgown, Rhett, this whole year has been so terrible for me. I'm tired of being afraid. I can't go on with this game anymore. I'm so weary I can barely able to walk to your door and be honest with you."  
  
She'd done what she didn't want to do, she'd fallen back on him, asked him to hold her up again. But now it was done; the words couldn't be taken back. She wouldn't even if she could. She'd meant every one of them. Now, she could only hope that the old Rhett would surface, and hold up both of them.  
  
Rhett was silent as he led her over to the divan by the shaded window. Without a word, he wearily sank down onto it, pulling her down beside him. For a long minute, his eyes locked with hers, willing her to look away, to show any sign of weakness. She met them, knowing that he would easily read the emotions bubbling to the surface, emotions she was to exhausted to hide.  
  
"If two minutes ago, someone had told me you would come in here and tell me this, then asked what I would do, I never would have believed them, but I would have told them I would throw you back out of the room." His eyes drifted away from hers only long enough to look at Bonnie's lifeless form, as if to reassure himself this wasn't some terrible farce. "Now we both know I'd have been lying. I've been through a lot of fear and hurt in these past few months, too. When I was gone, I had myself convinced I didn't love you, that I could leave you. But when you were hurt, it just proved what a liar I was, even to myself. Part of me wanted to leave. I'll be honest--a small part of me still wants to leave. I've always been a coward who runs away, but I'll be damned if it's going to happen now. We've both been through too much to just walk away."  
  
Scarlett glanced over to the bed where Bonnie lay before meeting his gaze. Happily, she noted that his face looked less like a corpse than it had when she'd entered the room. Hiding somewhere in his eyes was the ghost of hope. A million desires overwhelmed her at once, leaving her unsure whether she should laugh, cry, or continue in their first civil discussion in what seemed like years; the only thing she was sure of was that she wasn't leaving Rhett's side any time soon.  
  
"I'm sorry, Rhett, I truly am. Admittedly, I probably married you for the wrong reasons, at least consciously, but I never wanted things to get this bad between us."  
  
"Scarlett, we're not going to play the sorry game with this. We've both done things we shouldn't have, and both of us deserve some of the blame for this. And this is very far from where I wanted us to be when I asked you to marry me. I loved you, and wanted to spoil you the way I spoil Bonnie." After a second, he choked out a correction in tense. "Spoiled. I spoiled Bonnie."  
  
For the first time in all the years she'd known him, tears streamed down Rhett's face, as his gaze vacillated between his wife and dead daughter. Uncertain of how to react, Scarlett followed her instinct and pulled him to her, resting his head on her shoulder. Taking comfort in his closeness, she could barely process what he'd just admitted to her. He loved her? Why had he never told her? He had spoken in the past tense-did he still? But now was not the time to press these questions. This hesitant truce would suffice for the time being.  
  
"Rhett, Bonnie was the happiest child I've ever seen. Even happier than I was when I was a little girl. She loved you, and I'm glad that one of my children had a happy life." Sadness and regret tinged her voice as she held back her own tears. "Come to bed, Rhett, and get some sleep. Things will feel a little better tomorrow, after sleep and something to eat."  
  
Pulling away from their embrace, she rose from the divan and offered her hand to him. Once more she was afraid, afraid that he would rebuff her, and startled by her boldness in inviting him back to her bed, even if it was simply to sleep.  
  
His warm hand met hers, and he slowly arose from the cushions. In the silence, the crackling of his knees was audible. Scarlett realized with a start how much older than she he was, and what a toll their constant bickering must have taken. The haggard, aged face she met upon entering the room returned to her mind, and thought of how much she had aged him. She would have to make it up to him; this could be righted, she knew, if they both tried.  
  
With a last lingering look at Bonnie, stretched out on the bed, Rhett turned to the hurricane lamps and blew them out. In the dim light, they made their way to the door, hand in hand. 


	2. Chapter 2

The Ghost of Hope (Chapter 2)  
  
Scarlett awoke to an unusual warm weight around her waist. For a panicked split second, she started to pull away, until she realized it was Rhett holding her close. They went to bed like strangers, keeping close to their respective sides of the massive bed, but in the night they'd found their way together.  
  
Her sudden movement woke Rhett, and he groggily greeted her. "Good morning, Scarlett."  
  
"Yes, it is, in spite of everything." She turned in his embrace, a smile gracing her face for the first time in months.  
  
One finger lightly traced the deep circles under her eyes. "Did you sleep well? You look as if you haven't been lately."  
  
Dropping her eyes and pulling back slightly from his touch, she struggled with a mixture of sadness and anger before deciding to simply address his concern. No more bitterness, she reminded herself. "No, I haven't been sleeping well at all. I can't remember the last time before last night when I did."  
  
His embrace tightened, and she burrowed her head against his chest, muffling her words. "No, I can remember exactly."  
  
Rhett left her a moment to continue before pressing her. "And when was that, darling?"  
  
Now she was glad her face was hidden, as it flushed with shame, regret, and a flurry of emotions she wasn't capable of classifying. "The last night we spent together. I just wish I'd woken up to this the next morning." Try as she might, Scarlett couldn't prevent a hint of bitterness from mingling with her sad tone.  
  
Before responding, Rhett cleared his throat and kissed the crown of her still-hidden head. "That, in spite of my earlier statements of no-fault, I will apologize for. For both my behavior that night and the next morning."  
  
Meeting his eyes, Scarlett could see open honesty for perhaps the first time since she'd met him. Impulsively, she tilted her head up and kissed him ever-so-tenderly on the lips.  
  
Both were surprised by the kiss. Not wanting to overstep her confused boundaries, Rhett let Scarlett take the lead, and was disappointed when she broke away and once again hid her face. He reached down and tilted her chin back up, forcing her to look at him.  
  
"Scarlett, you don't have to embarrassed for kissing me. You are still my wife, after all."  
  
"Yes, I know I am." Her mouth hung agape as she tried to gather her wits about her, to understand the emotions swirling around her mind, severely temping Rhett to kiss her. Seconds before he gave into the urge, she continued with a sigh. "And as your wife, I think it's my responsibility to get us out of this bed and fed, so we can deal with today."  
  
The implications of 'today' hung ponderously, despite the lightness with which she'd spoken. She hoped that as husband and wife, they'd somehow find the peace of mind to make it through the impending funeral for their daughter.  
  
Low clouds hung over the cemetery, matching the mood of those paying their respects to Bonnie. Clasped tightly to Rhett's arm, Scarlett stared down at the damp ground; a pit the color of dried blood opened up a step away from her, waiting to claim her child. Her mind swirled, and she was suddenly unaware of how she'd come to be standing here. The curious looks of Atlanta's Old Guard were unnoticed by her as she wrapped her arms around Rhett.  
  
Looking down at Scarlett, Rhett was unable to distinguish the tears on Scarlett's face from the falling rain. More than her tears, he was startled by the public display of emotion she was engaged in. Yet he too needed comfort this day, and was immensely grateful for her slender arms tightly embracing him.  
  
Scarlett paid little attention to the droning of the priest over the tiny mahogany coffin. She could look at little besides the gaping hole in front of her, interspersed with brief glances up at Rhett's face. She expected his face to be the same expressionless mask he always presented in public when he wasn't being devilishly charming, but today grief was clear in his eyes. When their gazes met during the service, she thought there was something else there, something which bordered on affection. That realization was too much for her to deal with at that moment, so she simply accepted that they would survive this together, and remained tucked closely into his side.  
  
With difficulty, she suffered through the polite condolences of Mrs. Merriweather and her ilk before practically running to their carriage. Both Scarlett and Rhett sat in a heavy silence at the driver started home. No words were needed as they processed their grief, needing to find their own peace with it before they could discuss their own future.  
  
For as often as she'd hated enforced bed rest, Scarlett could find little will to do anything besides collapse into its downy embrace. She'd made it up the stairs with her arms wrapped around Rhett, and he'd helped her into bed without saying a word. Now dinner had passed her by as she slept, and she wondered where he'd gone.  
  
No light broke through the heavy drapes, and she wondered what time it was as she rose from the bed in search of her wrapper. With a glance at the clock on the mantle, she was startled to find it nearly midnight.  
  
At this hour, she had no desire to deal with the servants, even Mammy, and pulled her wrapper tightly around her as she made her way down to the kitchen. The light slipping out beneath the dining room door gave her pause, however. For a long moment, she stood staring, remembering the last time she'd encountered Rhett late at night in that room. With a sigh, she stepped forward and quietly slid the door open.  
  
In the shadows at the far end of the table sat Rhett, a full glass and nearly full decanter of whiskey in front of him. Unsure of what to say to him, she remained silent as she slowly walked the length of the room to his side, where she knelt on the floor.  
  
Tortured but sober eyes gazed down at her, red with unshed tears. His knuckles were white as they gripped the glass, filled nearly to the brim.  
  
"Rhett." Hesitantly, she began, uncertain of what to say to him, but knowing he needed comfort as much as she did. He had been so strong for her, and now she must be strong for him. Her eyes settled on the decanter as she tried to compose her thoughts.  
  
"Did I, in my pitiable state, interrupt your quest for a nightcap, my pet?" The biting tone had returned, but the malice that had resounded behind such comments in the past was absent.  
  
This was some sort of test, she knew. It was best now to just be honest with him, and perhaps he would return the favor, as he had been doing recently. "No, I haven't had anything to drink since.in a long time." That had sounded frail to her, but a glance had told her that it had somehow restored Rhett's civility. "I slept through dinner. I came down to find something to eat, and saw the light, and thought you might like some company. After all, you shouldn't drink alone, people will find out."  
  
The joke had been forced, but it earned her a faint smile from Rhett. "I haven't been, actually." Meditating on the glass, he turned it gently between his hands, pale beams of light refracting through the cut glass and caramel liquid.  
  
"I felt like I needed.something. I don't know what, it's not a feeling to which I'm accustomed." Bitterness rolled off him, tinged with sadness, and Scarlett placed a hand on his forearm as he continued. "You were asleep, and I didn't want to wake you, you needed it so badly. And liquor always served so well in the past to drown out all my problems."  
  
He paused once more and gestured to the nearly tacky decanter, very close to full of the expensive whiskey he loved. "But I couldn't do it this time. I don't want to bog down my feelings with whiskey, I want to stop them, so I never have to feel them again."  
  
Scarlett could never remember crying so easily over words before. She rose and wrapped her arms around him as he slumped in the chair. "Come to bed, then. You need the rest as much as I do." Whisper-soft fingers traced over his face, which was looking craggier than she remembered, rapidly aged by his life with Scarlett. "Please."  
  
That was one word he'd never heard her sincerely utter before. The concern in her tone was clear, if weary. How she could be looking after anyone the way she herself was feeling amazed Rhett, and he moved to rise from the table.  
  
"Go get yourself something to eat, Scarlett, and I'll meet you upstairs."  
  
"No." Both paused at the soft vehemence in her voice. "No, I've gone without food before. Missing a meal when I'm well-fed won't hurt me. I'd like to walk back up with you."  
  
A flash of pity crossed Rhett's face as he nodded, willing to let her have this battle, knowing too well that what she said was true.  
  
Neither of them spoke as they put out the two dim lamps in the room and made their way out into the hallway. Illuminated by tinted moonlight streaming through gaudy stained glass, the psychologically battered pair climbed up the stairs with their arms wrapped comfortably around one another. 


	3. Chapter 3

The Ghost of Hope Chapter 3  
  
Nebulous grey swirled around her, the only spots of lightness in a universe of black. Faint shapes would appear and recede as she walked through the dark landscape, foreign yet somehow deeply familiar. She took a step to the left, and could feel herself narrowly skirting an unseen sinkhole, bits of earth crumbling away underfoot.  
  
There was something here she must find, but she wasn't sure what or why. Only that it was terribly important that she do so. A large oak rose to her right, it's silhouetted form darker even than the black night surrounding her. The fog parted enough for her to see a boy and a girl, children really, flirting under its protective branches; quickly, the image was swallowed up again.  
  
Turning away, a shadow brushed past her, close enough to feel the breeze and swirling mist, hoof-beats cantering past. Faintly, so softly she could barely hear even in this near silence, she thought a laugh trailed back to her, tinged with a familiar brogue. Had the figure been Pa? She had to stop him, he shouldn't be riding!  
  
But then another, smaller, figure galloped past, hell-bent, it seemed, on catching up with the much larger horse. This figure was much tinier, almost a child on a pony. Bonnie! She was racing Pa! They shouldn't, oh they can't, they'll both end up hurt! He shouldn't be jumping at all, and her pony will never make it over the fences Pa's horse can!  
  
She had to stop them. Turning around in the thickening fog, she lost track of the direction the riders had headed, but could still hear the faint sound of hooves. Someone had to help her. She needed to find someone. Rhett, Rhett always helped her. Where was he? He had to be here somewhere. Oh, Rhett, please, find me, help me. I've got to stop Bonnie.  
  
Trying to cry out, she found her voice muffled by the fog. It felt as if she were shouting to herself; even Bonnie and Gerald must be unable to hear her intermittent pleas to stop, to return and visit with her. And why wasn't Rhett coming? She thought she'd been calling his name for an eternity, breaking down in tears at the terrible sense of aloneness and helplessness that threatened to overwhelm her.  
  
Suddenly, Rhett's voice seemed very close, very warm, very safe. He was calling to her, but she couldn't see him through the fog, and couldn't make out what he was saying to her. Pitifully, she sobbed out his name.  
  
With a jolt, she was sitting, wrapped securely in Rhett's arms. She was still in the dark, but this darkness was tempered by moonbearms spilling through breaks in the draperies. It took a moment for her to regain enough control to wrap her own arms around Rhett and pull him closer to her, pressing her teary face to his chest.  
  
"It's all right, Scarlett, I'm here, I'm here." His voice was soothing, gentle, and it broke through her blind panic.  
  
She pulled back slightly from him, needing space to catch her breath, but not wanting to move far from his arms. Her eyes roamed the room, all dark shadows and silver accents. Even Rhett's face was shadowed, but enough pale light caught his eyes to show their concern.  
  
"I'm.you.I couldn't.," she gasped, trying to reassure both of them and failing miserably. Only after several deep breaths was she able to choke a coherent sentence out between sobs. "I couldn't find you to stop them."  
  
"Stop who, darling?" His velvet tone soothed her nerves, and the tears slowed. Even subconsciously, it seemed that her body was calmed by his presence. One of his hands came up to brush tears from her face as the other pulled her closer to him again as he moved to rest against the headboard.  
  
"I was in the fog, like the nightmare I used to have." Rhett nodded encouragingly, his lips brushing the top of her head as he did so. "But this was different."  
  
She paused for a moment, trying to sort out both how precisely this had differed, and compose herself further. "I could almost see people in the fog. I swear Pa rode past me. And then, oh, and then, just as I was worrying about him, there was someone else, someone smaller. Bonnie." Her voice was very small, even in her own ears.  
  
"Shh, it was just a nightmare."  
  
"No, but that's not all, Rhett." Scarlett gripped his hand tightly, needing him to understand, hoping she could telegraph everything to him without having to process it again herself. "I had to stop them, I just had to. I knew what would happen, both of them galloping off like mad. They were so alike in that. I was shouting for them to stop, to come back, and they didn't. Then I started yelling for you, and you weren't coming, either. You'd have been able to stop them, but you wouldn't come help me."  
  
"Oh, Scarlett." His voice broke, undone by grief and empathy. "I'd forgotten you lost your father the same way."  
  
She nodded without bothering to curb the flow of tears once again streaming down her face.  
  
"I believe you once talked to me about your fear of Hell. Can I take that to mean you also believe just as much in Heaven?"  
  
Startled and confused, she twisted in his arms, looking up at him in search of any trace of his old maliciousness. Not finding any, she tried to simply answer with honesty. "I-I suppose I do, Rhett."  
  
"Then you can be assured that your father is taking good care of our daughter."  
  
"Oh." She crushed him to her, raining teary kisses along his shoulder. "You should be reassured by that, too."  
  
Rhett's chest heaved with an uncharacteristic hitch, and Scarlett reached up to his face to find tears under her fingers. Was he really crying? She had no idea how to comfort him the way he could do for her.  
  
"Rhett, Rhett, it's all right-" Rhett's hand silenced her as he shook his head.  
  
"That's all you needed to say, Scarlett. I don't think I've gotten such perfect words of comfort since this happened. Why does it not surprise me that they're my words thrown back at me by you?" Gentle humor tinged his voice.  
  
For the briefest moment, she was thrown out of her sorrow into wondering what then his previous taunts must have meant to him. That thought was quickly cast aside by more pressing concerns.  
  
Tears gone, she dryly answered him. "Why, it doesn't surprise me in the least. You always have had a way of knowing just what to say." If only it had always been put to good, she thought.  
  
Rhett's only answer was a deep kiss as he pulled her back down into bed with him. This lacked the tenderness of his recent attentions, more closely recalling the kisses he'd given her what seemed lifetimes ago, which had left her nearly swooning.  
  
Seemingly satisfied with just one kiss, he pulled her into his arms as a child would a teddy bear. As they both drifted back into a more peaceful sleep, Scarlett had the brief revelation that such an embrace was as much to reassure himself as her. He hadn't addressed her concern over his role in her dream, but this insight almost seemed an answer to that question. 


	4. Chapter 4

Ghost of Hope, Ch. 4  
  
The roiling waves of steel grey clouds that had covered the sky for the past few weeks had finally parted, leaving the porch bathed in sunlight. Warmth seeped from the red clay bricks through Scarlett's slippers to warm her feet as she joined Rhett on a chaise just out of the sun.  
  
"I would think you'd prefer the sunlight, after so much time in the dark, Mr. Butler."  
  
He started out of the reverie he'd been in, tearing his gaze from the hedge- shrouded lawns. While overall he looked much healthier than he had when she'd walked into his room a week ago, Scarlett detected a lingering sadness about him.  
  
"It is good to be outside that monstrosity of a house, Scarlett." The taunting laugh failed to reach his eyes as she sat down next to him.  
  
"Maybe that's what we both need. Time outside together, in the warmth and sunlight." She nearly suggested going for a ride, something she hadn't taken the time to enjoy since before the war, when the image of Bonnie's prone form flashed in her mind. The idea was quickly dismissed, and she remained still, letting the sun's warmth reach the tips of her toes, as her slippers peeked out under the hem of her skirts.  
  
Rhett's eyes roved over her form, still discontent, but basking in the sun like a cat. "We could get outside this all together." For a long moment he was silent, summoning the resolve to continue. "Bonnie loved London. Perhaps you would too." He couldn't meet her eyes as he spoke, and she knew what that statement had cost him.  
  
"Oh, Rhett, I'd love to see London! But…" she stilled for a moment, wondering whether it was wise to venture a bit of jest. "I thought Bonnie said London was horribly dreary and rainy. Couldn't we go somewhere lovely and warm?"  
  
"Lovely and warm, darling?" Now his smile reached his eyes, catching a bit of her passion. "I'm sure the fashions of the French capital would be to your liking."  
  
Scarlett furrowed her brow. "You mean Paris?"  
  
A soft chuckle rumbled through Rhett's chest. "Yes, Scarlett, Paris. I see more education is necessary before we make the trip."  
  
"Oh." Scarlett shut down, refusing to respond to his taunt, but hurt just the same. It was only his firm grasp on her arm that prompted her to look at him.  
  
"I'm sorry, Scarlett. If we're going to start being civil again, I need to learn to stop mocking you as I do."  
  
An apologetic Rhett was something she was unprepared for. "Well, it's not all the mocking. Sometimes it makes me laugh, when I know you mean it to be funny. But sometimes it seems like you do it just to goad me for my faults. I'm aware enough of those on my own."  
  
"Would Paris serve as a suitable apology?"  
  
Scarlett managed to look angry for a few seconds before breaking into a smile. "Oh, yes Rhett, I'd like nothing better. Is it anything like New Orleans was?"  
  
A smile curled across Rhett's lips at her eagerness. "Bigger, and more elegant. Anything you want, you can have there."  
  
For a moment, visions of elegant dinners and evening walks drifted through her mind, then that deep awareness of her shortcomings rose again. "But I don't know a word of French! How on earth am I supposed to ask for anything?"  
  
"You're a fast learner, and I speak it passably well. You think you can learn a bit in the two weeks it will take to sail there?"  
  
"Oh, I'm sure of it. Only, what about Wade and Ella? I feel terrible going off and leaving them, it would be wonderful for them to go too." She hesitated, unsure of how selfish she was willing to admit to being. "I want some time with you to myself. We have a lot to fix."  
  
Nodding slowly, Rhett wrapped his arm around her. "It's up to you. We can take them along if you'd like, but we can always go back again and take them if you enjoy it this time. Perhaps in a few more years, when they're old enough to appreciate everything they'll see."  
  
"I think I like that idea very much. How soon can we leave?"  
  
"Always the eager one, aren't you? Would a week be soon enough for you?"  
  
"Whenever you want to go, I'll go with you."  
  
Rhett used the leverage of his arm to pull her back onto the chaise with him. They rested in the silence of the afternoon, the bench slowly being bathed in warmth as the sun traveled across the afternoon sky.  
  
As happy as she was with the prospect of spending several months alone with Rhett, and traveling to Paris, a part of her remained concerned. She liked the new, easy peace they'd forged as without discussion he'd returned to her room, and they passed most evenings together. Yet worry nagged at her that by leaving, they were simply running away from their problems.  
  
The thoughts spun around in her brain, drawing her out of the afternoon and into her own head. If their problem was them, wouldn't it be just as easy to fix in Paris, or perhaps even easier there, without the distraction of their Atlanta roles? Or would it leave them with a false foundation for their future. Quickly, the thought of rebuilding their lives somewhere other than Atlanta or Tara crossed her mind. She rapidly dismissed the idea, knowing no other way of life than the one to which she was currently accustomed.  
  
When they rose to return to the house, Scarlett voiced her fears. "Rhett, will leaving really help? Of course I want to see Paris, but will going away from where all our problems are really fix anything at all?"  
  
Rhett froze, astonished at the mix of insight and trepidation. "Frankly my dear, I think getting out of Atlanta is exactly what we need. I wouldn't mind leaving for good, if we can find somewhere better to settle."  
  
"I don't know where I'd want to live. I've never lived anywhere but here or Tara." The naïveté shown through, leaving her feeling very much a child.  
  
"You're an adaptable, smart woman, Scarlett. You could live anywhere you decided you liked. That's one of the things I love about you. Anything you put your mind to, you accomplish. I may tease you about your lack of formal education, but you more than make up for it with wit and resourcefulness. That's something that can't be taught."  
  
Pride drew her up further into Rhett's embrace. "That's the kindest thing you've ever said to me. Thank you." She rose on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, willingly opening her mouth to his as he twisted to meet her lips.  
  
Reluctantly they broke apart, moving into the shade of the house. The idea of moving out of Atlanta and into a larger world overwhelmed her, but Rhett's confidence in her left her eager instead of fearful. 


End file.
